Pulled out my sleeping bag and slept on the couch last night. Slept relatively soundly, although I recall more than one dream in which I returned to the U-Haul headquarters to report the damage, with all sorts of different scenarios playing themselves out as I slept.

I gradually awoke as light entered the room, but did my best to put off the inevitable re-emergence of consciousness as long as I could. When I finally got up, I found a clock which said 8:57. Perfect. Just before the U-Haul office was supposed to open, at least according to their little brochure.

I tried to call at 9:05, and gave up after 10 rings with no answer. Doddled around a little bit, pacing the floor of the living room, almost went back to sleep again, but then got up and took a shower when dad emerged and started eating breakfast. I tried calling again after 10:00. Still no answer.

At this point, I decided that the incident needed to be reported to somebody, and if the local office wasn't reachable, then maybe their national 1-800 emergency number would be. I tried calling it, and got a little recording stating that if you aren't callind about an emergency, to contact Customer Service, and provided another number. I hung up and tried calling that. When I described the problem, they promptly redirected me back to the emergency number, where I again stated what had happened. From there, I was redirected to some sort of claims line, who asked a few questions and then concluded that it would be best handled by contacting the management of the local facility. They suggested that I try calling the local number again tomorrow, since the office might not be open today, despite what was printed on the brochure.

Given that nothing more could be done about that for the rest of the day, I decided it was time to focus my mind on what I could control. I ate some toast and peanut butter, read a little Slashdot from the floor of my room, played a few ogg files through my speakers on the floor, and began the daunting task of sorting through the crap.

While making slow progress, I encountered some rather unpleasant documents from my past. One wouldn't expect such a reaction, but seeing it again hit me right in an area of my gut that I've been trying to bury for a while now. Knocked the wind out of me, emotionally speaking. An unsubtle reminder that no matter how much you think you can trust someone, or how safe you may have thought you could be confiding personal secrets, that trust can come back to bite you harder than ever imagined. The page in my hand, silently, mercilessly, unflinchingly spoke to me, "Trust no one. And don't you EVER forget it." A stupid little piece of paper shouldn't be able to do that.

I considered destroying it, or throwing it away, in the hopes that this entire section of past could just be wished out of existence and memory. Then came the realization that although life goes on, there are still some very damaged fibers at my core. Someday, somehow, the past must be confronted. I thought of a Farscape episode I watched again not so long ago on DVD, in which Rygel tries his best to avoid his painful past, and Zhaan urges him to confront it. Something about that seems applicable.

I stopped for a moment, played some more music, typed a rambling, and went back to sorting through the old junk.